A Bank Job

[Imogen] She steps from a well-lit cafe, a to-go coffee cup in hand, letting the door swing shut behind her. She is silhouetted by the light shining through the bay windows, illumination catching in the brightness of her red hair, limning her pale skin.

She is dressed in jeans and a blazer, a camisole beneath. The sun is set now, full dark has reached Chicago, and the street is half-full of those out enjoying the Labour Day weekend. She lets them surge around her as she pauses beneath the awning, lighting a cigarette.

[Paul Kellogg] Still grousing over that silly blonde who snarked his phone, he paid little attention to his surroundings. His former Sgts would be remissed if they saw him now.

Iphone in hand, having parked on the curb down aways abit he happens right past Imogen. A casual glance upwards as he passed. Smiling as he entered only to curse under his breath and spin right back around. The sound of the door's chime ringing twice.

Saddling alongside her. Hand raising to the brim of his brown Jim Beam logo baseball cap. "Evenin fille..this gonna sound verrray corney..but I've been looking for you for ova a month. You remember moi? Paul?"

[Imogen] The dark eyed kinswoman lifts an eyebrow as she finishes lighting her cigarette, filling her lungs with smoke.

"Vaguely," she replies, mildly as she turns her head at an angle, blowing the smoke away from the Garou.

[Paul Kellogg] "You busy sugah? I'd liake to run somethang by ya. If ya got the tiame, I was just bout to get some Caffee O'Ley...We could chat in my bumble-bee or in the cafe" Offering a thin grin. Still wearing those strange shoes, like toe-socks. Actually fisting them upon the concret sidewalk beneath the boot cut of his jeans. His black sleeveless Metallica shirt faded and torn, tucked in the front behind a large sterling silver buckle with turqouise enlay upon it in the shape of a claw. He hooked a thumb behind it as he cocked a stance in waitance.

[Imogen] Imogen pauses briefly. "Why don't we speak 'ere," she says. "And then yeh can ha' yer coffee in peace."

[Paul Kellogg] "Aiaght...I understand" Trust issues. Who could blame her? With a shrug and quick glance about. He raised his Iphone towards her. Visual screen flairing to life beneath his thumb. Scanning thru till he brought up photos. Hyde Park Bank's facade. "Gulf Coast Enterprises, which consists of Lakeview....Nawleens Hallon and Texas Petrolium" Shaking his head quickly, as well as his hand over the screen. "That doesnt really matter riaght now. Lets just say m'ole Sept knew somethang was riaghtly amiss with em. Anyways......bottom line..This bank is holding their bonds. Federal Treasury bonds as well as some currency...that aint the big deal..what is..it's a holding front for the wyrm. You a detective riaght?"

[Paul Kellogg] "Cause if you are darlin...What's the average Police response should a silent alarm go off?"

[Paul Kellogg] (just dies laughing)
to Imogen

[Imogen] Imogen turns her gaze to the screen as he shows it to her, her eyes touching it, and lifting to Paul, an eyebrow lifting slightly as he repeatedly says that such and such a thing does not matter.

"I would appreciate if you avoided pet names when speaking to me," she notes, lifting her cigarette back to her lips and inhaling.

"I'm a forensic pathologist," she says. "Not a detective. But if yeh get me the address, I imagine I can find you the data on the average police response in th'area."

[Paul Kellogg] "THAT would sooo fucking ROCK!" Unable to belay his sudden excitement. Sobering quickly, though still with that southern smile. "Aiaght..it's just a thang. Whatcha want me to call ya m'cher?" As he inquired, his hands dropped to his pants. Fishing out a pen and notebook from both front and back pockets. Quickly scribbling. [i][b]"Most Patrol cars have a frequency concurrent with their shifts. Now it's lookin liake a night job, Im tinkin roun niane. Though the first tiame is a scout...unless I can find me a Magpie's Swag...then after I get in to the city records..I'll have it's floor plan. Security aint the issue...

[Paul Kellogg] (shit)

[Paul Kellogg] "Most Patrol cars have a frequency concurrent with their shifts. Now it's lookin liake a night job, Im tinkin roun niane. Though the first tiame is a scout...unless I can find me a Magpie's Swag...then after I get in to the city records..I'll have it's floor plan. Security aint the issue...We usually go umbral...Im just coverin all m'bases"

[Imogen] "Imogen," quick on the heels of 'm'chère', "Or doctor."

He continues and she is silent, watching him steadily as he speaks.

"So all yeh need from me is the average police response time from the area, is that it?"

[Paul Kellogg] "Well sheit..what else can ya get me? My momma didn't raise no fool. If you're a go to gal..then Im gonna go to ya...You got any suggestions before I liberate some funds?"

[Imogen] (sorry! the refresh stopped)

[Imogen] Her mouth tightens slightly as he speaks, then eases deliberately as she lifts her coffee cup to her lips, taking a deep swallow of the cooling liquid.

"I don't know enough about what yeh plan or the company which you are attacking. Personally, though, I'd not concern myself wi' the funds, but the company itself. Bring it down so it can't do any more damage and let th'money go hang."

[Paul Kellogg] "M'kin and doe's down the Delta are workin gainst the company itself. My task is to liberate the funds. Send some back to m'bewildered and financially strapped Sept....the rest to use here. That's m'job. It's what Im good at. But look ere Doc..these be m'digits. Give a hollar when ya get those response tiames. Or if ya know someone with a hankerin to lend a hand. I'll be in your debt..." Showing her his phone number on the Iphone.

[Imogen] She smirks slightly. "Sorry," Imogen says, "I'm not acquainted with any bank robbers." She lowers her purse from her arm, pulling out her phone. It chirps softly as she unlocks it, then scrolls through to add his phone number to her address book.

"I'll gi' yeh a ring when I've got the details, shall I?" the question is rhetorical, as she steps away from the awning, tapping cigarette ash as she lowers the fag.

"Ha' a goodnight."

[Paul Kellogg] "Thanks Doc..." With a smile. As if she had made his day..or rather his month he mossied inside to enjoy his coffee